Impossible Things
by Mindy35
Summary: Ten/Donna, Donna/Martha friendship. Martha calls the Doctor back to Earth to help Donna.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Impossible Things

Author: Mindy

Rating: K

Disclaimer: Characters are the property of RTD and BBC etc. Definitely not mine.

Spoilers: Lots. "The Christmas Invasion", "Human Nature", "Family of Blood", "Runaway Bride", "Sontaren Stratagem", "Silence in the Library", "Forest of the Dead", "Journey's End", "The Next Doctor".

Warnings: Character death.

Summary: Ten/Donna, Donna/Martha friendship. Martha calls the Doctor back to Earth to help Donna.

A/N: This is my first attempt at a full story in this fandom, any feedback is appreciated.

I.

He was alone when the phone rang. Striding slowly over to where his jacket lay over the railing circling the engine room, he retrieved the trilling phone. He studied it for a moment before answering.

"Doctor?" came the familiar tone.

"Martha Jones," he announced, feebly attempting to sound like his old self.

Martha didn't appear fooled by his impression, her voice anxious and tight. "Martha Milligan, actually."

"Right," he nodded to himself: "Of course. Milligan -- Martha Milligan. Mrs Martha Milligan. Try saying that five times fast--"

"That's not why I called," she interrupted, the unease in her voice evident. "This is not a social call," she added, trying not to alarm him.

It had the opposite effect. He recalled very clearly the subject of their last conversation – the last great favour he had asked of her. His final words to his capable friend had been that, if the worst happened, she was to call him instantly.

"What can I do for you then," he asked, still attempting to preserve some facade of verve: "Doctor Milligan?"

Martha was silent a moment: "Doctor. I'm so sorry…"

"Martha--" he started, his voice sinking and mind racing: "Is something wrong?"

"Someone," Martha corrected, taking a shaky breath. "It's Donna."

His head tipped back towards the ceiling and his eyes closed over. The two words he'd dreaded – they seemed to echo around the empty space.

"Doctor?" Martha called from the other end of the line, her voice sounding very far away: "Am I breaking up? Doctor? Did you hear me, Doctor?"

The Doctor took a breath. "I'm on my way."

II.

Sylvia Noble didn't see him arrive, her head cradled tiredly in her hands. She sat alone in the brightly-lit hospital corridor, her clothes rumpled and an untouched cup of tea by her side.

"How is she?"

Donna's mother looked up, her face pinched with worry and her eyes red-rimmed. An abrupt veil fell over her face to conceal her shock, her expression toughened at the sight of him.

"You," was all she whispered, her gaze sharp and critical.

"How's Donna?" he asked again.

Sylvia cleared her throat, rising unsteadily to her feet.

He gestured for her stay seated: "Please--"

Sylvia stood anyway – all the better to denounce him he supposed. The Doctor sighed, searching her drawn face for any trace of the warmth that used to exude from her daughter.

"Well," she mused sourly: "The Doctor is in. Don't you just have a talent for turning up when everything's gone to hell?"

He tried to stay calm. "You've a right to be angry--"

"Don't tell me what I've a right to," she spat stiffly: "What are you doing here anyway? You said you'd never come back. You said she'd never remember--" Sylvia cut off, ducking her head as her lower lip quivered uncontrollably: "You said-- Doctor, you _promised_ my daughter would be alright."

"I know," he sighed sadly: "I'm sorry. It's… complicated."

"Complicated," she huffed, dissatisfied. She took a deep breath, drawing up to her full height: "As far as I'm concerned, Doctor whoever-you-are, my daughter hasn't been the same since the day she met you, and Lord knows what she saw in you then. Can you honestly say none of this is your fault?"

"I can't," he replied quietly: "That's why I'm here."

"Oh? And what are you going to do?" she snapped scornfully: "The best doctors in this country have seen her and they haven't a bloody clue. You're not even a real doctor. She told me, she babbles all the time. You don't have a degree, you don't have anything--"

"I have her!" the Doctor interrupted fiercely. His eyes fixed her with a determined, almighty stare: "And I'm not going to loose her again."

"Look at you!" she fumed, her tone haughtily, her eyes narrowed to pin-pricks: "The big hero, eh?" She averted her eyes from his intense gaze, her voice loosing some strength as she admitted: "But you're too late this time, Doctor-- Donna's gone."

"Gone?" he demanded, his heart in his throat: "What do you mean, gone?"

"My daughter doesn't exist now," she continued, her facade wavering: "Nothing's left but…stories. Just like her grandad."

A different voice interrupted: "Doctor."

The Doctor's head whipped around to see Martha standing at the other end of the corridor, in her white coat, outside a set of unmarked white doors. Her hands were in her pockets, her expression grave.

She smiled cautiously: "She's through here."

The Doctor took one last look at the face of Sylvia Noble then turned towards the doors. He was halfway down the hall when Donna's mother called his name. He turned, his brow furrowed as he faced her again.

"How do I know," she asked him, her tone curt but not malicious: "that you seeing her again won't do her more harm than good?"

"You don't," the Doctor told her stoically: "But frankly Mrs Noble, I'm Donna's last chance. And if there is any way in this world that I can keep her alive, I will find it." He took a step closer, his voice lowering but his gaze loosing none of its intensity. "Because, whatever you think of me, I care about your daughter. A great deal. More than she ever knew and more than you can imagine." He took another step towards her, his arm pointing beyond the white doors. "That woman saved me," he continued, jaw set: "Repeatedly. Now, it's my turn to return the favour, with or without your consent."

He turned on his heel, striding down the corridor towards Martha -- and Donna -- but Sylvia's voice stopped him one last time.

"You have it, Doctor," she called, her voice shaky yet determined: "for whatever it's worth. Because my daughter trusted you."

"Yes," he replied firmly: "She did."

"And she was never stupid, my Donna," Sylvia added softly, her fingers knitted together tightly: "My guess is she had good reason."

The Doctor nodded: "Thank you," then pushed through the white doors with Martha at his side.

TBC… 


	2. Chapter 2

III.

"Tell me what happened," he ordered, marching down the white hall.

Martha's dark eyes slid up to his as she tried to keep pace with him: "Isn't that what you're here to tell me?"

The Doctor shook his head impatiently: "I mean, where, when, how'd it begin?"

"She was at a hospital," Martha reported, in her usual, short, efficient sentences: "Not this one, a different place."

"Yeah, what is this place?" he mused warily, glancing about at the unmarked, empty corridors.

"Right now," Martha replied evasively: "the best place for her."

"What was she doing?" he asked again, returning to his train of thought.

"Visiting her grandad."

"What's wrong with her grandad?"

"Pneumonia," she said, adding more carefully: "Donna had had a dose of it herself, so maybe her system was weakened. Before that, though, she was already experiencing….lapses."

The Doctor's eyes cut towards hers: "Go on."

"I was keeping an eye on her, like you asked," she continued: "But my best guess is something major at that hospital must have triggered her memory."

He stopped as they reached an elevator bank and Martha pushed a button.

The Doctor was silent a moment, running a hand over his jaw. "Where _exactly_ was she?"

"The visitor's lounge."

"Anybody with her?" he pressed urgently: "anybody talk to her, touch her?"

Martha shook her head, shrugging confusedly: "She was alone, asleep on the couch."

The Doctor let out a breath, his face betraying his frustration: "Anything else…? Nothing strike you as… odd?"

"The telly was on," she volunteered, seemingly trying to recall any scant details: "Just some old documentary, I think."

"About?"

"Uh… it was…Pompeii, I think," she answered with another shrug: "Thought that was a little strange. Not what she'd be into."

The Doctor slowly turned and leaned back against the white wall.

Martha's gaze searched his face: "Why? Does that mean something to you?" She was silent a moment before realisation dawned. "Oh, don't tell me…" she murmured under her breath.

He cast a sidelong look at her and smiled ruefully: "First place I took her."

Martha nodded in comprehension. "Come on," she sighed as the elevator doors slid open: "This way."

The Doctor followed her onto the elevator, watched her swipe her id badge and punch the correct button.

"Here's what you haven't explained," she began cautiously as the doors bumped shut: "How could this even happen?"

The Doctor's eyes seemed to glaze over. "There's no precedent for this. For what she became. Let's not forget what kind of mind she inherited."

"But if you wiped her brain of everything…" she persisted gently: "if every trace of you was meant to be gone..."

"Yeah..."

"Then…" Martha peered up at him, her eyes troubled: "how can she be remembering?"

The Doctor stared right through her. "I honestly don't know," he admitted slowly.

"You don't know…?" she repeated doubtfully: "But, Doctor -- you asked me to look out for her, to check for signs…" She shook her head in bewilderment: "You must have expected this, expected something."

"I don't know what I expected. My only--" he started, then turning to face his old companion, the words came out in a rush, a jumble of desperate thoughts and fears: "All I can think is that _this_ is what Donna chose, that part of her somehow pre-empted me. Maybe, she closed off her mind, hid part of herself away."

"But…" gasped Martha: "why?"

"Because she wanted to remember," he replied hesitantly: "Maybe Donna wanted to remember it all so badly--"

Martha raised her eyebrows: "That she'd risk her life?"

The Doctor bowed his head, running a hand over his hair. "She wanted to stay," he admitted in a quiet voice. He met Martha's gaze, an unforgiving fire burning brightly in the depths of his eyes. "Donna knew what would happen and she still wanted to stay."

Martha put a hand on his sleeve: "You saved her life, Doctor."

The Doctor searched her concerned gaze, his expression irresolute. "Did I?" he stated lowly.

The elevator dinged, breaking the sudden silence and the doors slid open on another floor. The Doctor stepped out, looking around and Martha followed. For a moment, though, they paused on the threshold.

"So…" she prompted anxiously: "what do we do? I mean, if you expected this then you must have a plan. I've stabilised her, I can stop her from burning up--" she paused and shook her head: "but I don't know that there's any more I can do for her."

"On the contrary, Martha Jones," he replied: "You're the one person in the world who knows exactly what needs to be done."

She stared up at him, perplexed: "What do you mean?"

The Doctor's eyes glinted cryptically: "How do you make a Time Lord forget?"

TBC…


	3. Chapter 3

IV.

The Doctor stared down at Donna, swathed in burgundy scrubs and submerged in cold water. Her eyes were closed, her hair clung to her cheeks. A violent flush stained her cheeks and a light sweat beaded her forehead.

"It's a birthing pool," Martha explained quietly: "It's the only way we could keep her body temp even close to normal."

The Doctor cleared his throat before he spoke: "Is she lucid?"

"Heavily sedated," Martha admitted regretfully: "Her mind was going into overdrive. She couldn't stop talking, ranting really."

"About?"

"Anything," she shrugged: "Everything. You name it."

The Doctor tipped his head to one side: "Not that unusual then."

Martha strode over to a nearby station, her heels echoing in the cavernous white room. "She's in and out," she continued, picking up a chart: "she doesn't always make a lot of sense and, from what I can tell, her memories are pretty patchy."

"She remember you?" the Doctor asked as he followed, his eyes still on his friend.

Martha bit her lip and turned to look at Donna again: "No." She glanced up at the Doctor: "She definitely remembers you though."

He turned to face her: "What'd she say?"

Martha smiled slightly: "Among other things… she said she's gonna sue the living backside off you."

The Doctor sighed as he nicked the chart from Martha's hands: "She might have a case."

"Oi," came a low voice from behind them.

Martha and the Doctor both turned.

Donna's eyes were still closed but her voice was clear and aggravated: "Would you lot quit talking about me like I'm not here?"

"Donna…." Martha stepped closer, using her best bedside manner voice: "There's someone here to see you."

Donna's lips turned up at the edges. "What took you so long?" she muttered, slightly slurrily: "Get stuck in traffic, martian boy?"

The Doctor squatted down beside her, a smile playing at his lips: "Something like that."

A hand reached out of the cool water, pale and frail but unwavering. The Doctor found it with his, clasping her fingers tightly. Her head turned towards him, her face relaxing into relief.

Donna opened her eyes: "Hi."

The Doctor smiled: "Hi."

Familiar grey-blue eyes ran listlessly over his careworn features. "You look older," she told him after a moment.

The Doctor leaned a little closer. "Lost my best mate, haven't I?" he replied gently: "It's taken a few hundred years off my life."

Donna tipped her chin up at him: "Miss me then, do ya?"

The Doctor eyed her warmly: "What do you think?"

She blinked slowly and reminded him: "Hey. If it's in your head…."

"Oh, so you read minds now?" he remarked amusedly.

"Nah," she sighed, eyes slipping shut again: "You're just easy."

He laughed slightly then put out his other hand, smoothing back some wet strands of red hair. His eyes scanned her face, intensely curious. "What did you do?" he asked finally his voice low and puzzled.

Donna smirked. "Something clever."

"You're not gonna tell me," he asked: "how this happened?"

"I didn't do anything," she admitted, her eyes meeting his again: "I was within the first fifteen hours of the regeneration cycle." She nodded weakly at the hand clasped in hers: "You grew a new hand…"

Behind them, Martha's voice was incredulous: "You…_grew_…a new memory? Is that even possible? Doctor?"

"Don't ask me," he mused: "She's the expert on this."

"Funny thing is," Donna added, her lips curving into a half-smile: "in this memory, you were much better looking."

"Oh," he hummed: "And were you any nicer to me, by any chance?"

"You wish."

"Donna?" Martha stepped forward: "Donna, we need to do some tests while you're with us."

"No, no tests," Donna replied, shaking her head weakly: "Don't like exams…Hate studying."

"No studying, Donna," Martha soothed: "Just a few questions, yeah?"

"Please, don't…" she slurred: "don't make me think…"

The Doctor watched her lift her hands slowly to her temples, pressing insistently. "Donna?" He remembered that gesture from the last few minutes they were on board the TARDIS.

"Donna?" Martha called: "Donna, you still with us?"

"Yes…" came the strained reply: "Doctor…My gramps--"

"He's fine," the Doctor assured her swiftly: "Don't worry about a thing. He's fine, I promise."

Donna hands clasped the edge of the tub, her face becoming more feverish, her gaze unfocused. "Because pneumonia can attack--" she shook her head, broke off: "can sap the--" she drew in a breath, gulping down oxygen: "can collapse the--"

The Doctor's eyes grew wide with alarm. "Get her out of there," he ordered lowly. He grabbed Donna's arm and slung it over his shoulder then turned to look at Martha who was still stunned. "Martha, now! Help me!" he bellowed: "We have to get out her out!"

Martha instinctively moved to assist: "And then what?" she demanded tersely.

The Doctor glanced at her as they pulled Donna's body from the water. "We get her to the TARDIS, of course."

TBC…


	4. Chapter 4

V.

Donna gazed up at the colourful dome of the TARDIS with something akin to worship. Supported by the Doctor on one side and Martha on the other, she walked slowly up the entry ramp. As soon as she was seated, the Doctor quickly began tearing up the floor, searching for buried treasure.

"Try to breathe," Martha told her as she turned her wrist over, monitoring her pulse with two fingers.

"I'm fine," Donna smiled faintly, tugging at the heavy brown coat that covered her new, dry set of scrubs. She glanced about to make sure the Doctor was out of earshot: "Martha?"

"Yeah?" Martha peered at her, for the first time getting the impression that Donna knew exactly who she was.

"Do you know," she asked, her voice a little shaky: "what he's planning?"

Martha nodded shortly: "I've got a pretty good idea, yeah."

Donna took a breath, nodding to herself. "Will it hurt?" she asked eventually.

Martha was silent for a moment, her face registering her anguish. "Yeah," she answered finally, her voice no more than a whisper. She took Donna's hand in hers and gave it a squeeze: "You can do this, Donna."

"Got it!" the Doctor announced, pulling something out from beneath the floor. He made his way back to them, bleeping at something small with his sonic screwdriver.

"What, in hell," Donna asked, for the first time sounding as loud and outraged as her old self: "is that?"

"Are you sure about this?" Martha asked a little more discreetly.

The Doctor tugged on a rope and something lowered from the ceiling. "Never thought I'd have to use this again. It's been missing a part," he babbled hastily: "I had to find a new positron infusion adaptor." He grimaced as he screwed the new part into place: "You have no idea how hard these things are to come by, took me ages to find another one."

"Oi-oi-oi! Hold on a second there, Doctor Frankenstein," Donna snapped: "Are you going to explain to me what's going on?"

"Yes," the Doctor answered soberly, dragging the metal helmet towards her. "You know what this is?" He posed it more as a prompt than an outright question: "Think, Donna. I know it hurts, but try to remember."

Donna closed her eyes briefly and a violent flash appeared in the back of her mind. It left her breathless. "It's a…it's the Chameleon Arch."

The Doctor glanced at Martha then turned back to Donna, watching her warily beneath a crooked brow. "And you know what it does?" he persisted gently.

Her eyes locked with his. "It can alter every cell in my body," she answered quietly, without knowing where the words came from.

"Exactly," he nodded: "It can rewrite your entire biology. If you want it to."

She gulped: "What do you mean _if _I want it to?"

"It's your choice, Donna," he told her gravely: "This time, I'm giving it to you."

"What are you talking about?" she spluttered: "I don't have a choice! And, I know, I know--" she held up a hand, her voice loosing momentum: "don't say it. We always have a choice."

"Okay," he bobbed his head: "I won't."

"So," Donna took a breath, looking back and forth between the two of them: "I will be…? Human, right?"

"You'll be human," the Doctor replied softly: "And complete."

She peered at him hesitantly: "So, I'll keep my memories, this time, yeah?"

"The memories of Donna the human should survive, in tact," he nodded slowly.

"But, I…" she continued falteringly, voicing what he couldn't: "I won't have your memories. I'll have none of your…."

"None of my brilliance," the Doctor smiled ruefully: "You'll no longer be the smartest person in

the room."

She gave a facial shrug. "It's not all it's cracked up to be."

He pulled a fob watch out of his pocket and put it in her hand: "Everything you shouldn't know, all that knowledge, Donna, that's overflowing inside your head, will go in here."

She turned the watch over in her hands: "In a watch?" She looked at Martha: "Is he putting me on?"

"No," she replied earnestly: "A watch can hold the consciousness of a Time Lord. That's what's killing you. We need to rewrite it, get it out before you….self-destruct, for lack of a medical term."

Donna looked down at the watch in her hands, then up at the contraption hanging ominously from the ceiling. The Doctor moved closer, taking her by the shoulders.

"Donna?" he murmured softly: "Donna, look at me."

Donna met his gaze, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. Her face looked pale against her dark, wet hair.

"It's your choice, Donna," he told her lowly, fixing her with an intense stare: "All you have to do is trust me." He thumbed away a tear from where it fell to her cheek and took a breath: "Do you trust me, Donna?"

Donna sniffed and tipped her chin up. "I just have question," she replied firmly. She knit her brow at him: "Can we swap the ginger gene while we're at it?"

The Doctor's mouth curved up in one corner: "Now, why would you want to do that?"

TBC…


	5. Chapter 5

VI.

Donna dreamt of the Doctor, standing over her, tall and grave, keeping watch as she slept. But when she opened her eyes on her old bedroom, she saw only the same faded wallpaper cast with dusky shadows. She rolled onto her side and saw that a chair had been pulled up to the other side of her bed. On it, was a crumpled brown coat.

"Good morning," the Doctor said, appearing in the doorway with her mother's tea tray in his hands. He stood for moment staring back at her as she blinked at him blearily. "Fancy a cup of tea, sleepyhead?"

Donna carefully pulled herself up in her bed, her head aching and her eyes trailing him as he moved to her bedside. She wasn't entirely clear on all that had transpired, when and how. But most bizarre was the sight of the Doctor looking so domestic and at home in her normal, old life.

He shot her a grin as he handed her her cup. "Best thing for you right now."

"How long have I been out?" Donna asked, her throat crackling uncontrollably.

"Few days," he answered, taking a seat in the chair where he'd apparently been sleeping and keeping an eye on her. "How're you feeling?"

"Wicked headache," she replied. She let out a breath as she took a sip of the strongest tea she'd ever tasted in her life. It tasted better than anything ever had. "Apart from that, I feel like a new woman. No pun intended."

The Doctor vaulted out of his seat, plopping himself down onto the bed next to her. "Let's have a little listen then," he mused, pulling his stethoscope out of his pocket. He rubbed the tip on his sleeve to warm it then drew aside her pyjama top.

Donna smiled and watched him: "What're you--?"

"Mm hmmm," he nodded, pressing the cold metal into her skin and listening intently: "sounds pretty good to me."

She snorted and pointed to her left side: "It's over this side, you dope."

The Doctor cleared his throat: "I knew that," and moved the stethoscope closer to her heart.

Donna watched him skeptically: "Do you have any clue what you're doing?"

He lifted the disk of the stethoscope to her mouth: "What?" he asked a little too loudly.

Donna rolled her eyes and batted his hand away. "Loon."

The Doctor grinned at her warmly. "What's the square root of pie?" he asked after a moment.

Donna looked upwards, searching her mind. "No idea," she admitted with a shrug. "But I _can_ tell you the names and starsigns of all of Posh and Beck's kids."

The Doctor dipped his head: "That's just as impressive."

"And just as useful," she added.

"What's a flip-switch inversion filter?" he asked next.

Donna made a face. "How should I know? That's your job."

"Fair enough," he conceded, then raised an eyebrow: "How do you knock out a Sontaren?"

Donna smiled: "Whack him on the back of the neck and hope for the best."

The Doctor smiled back, somewhat triumphant: "Welcome back, Donna Noble, as was."

She took another sip of her tea, glancing at him over the rim of her mug: "So…how long before I'm up and about, Doc? I don't know about you but I could do with a little trip somewhere. Somewhere warm and quiet," she held up a finger, her voice gaining momentum: "with no aliens and no running. I've always thought Monte Carlo--"

The Doctor interrupted: "Donna."

She blinked at him: "What?"

"I….have to tell you something," he replied, his voice sticking in his throat.

She scrunched her face up at him: "Oh, god no. Tell me you haven't."

He looked confused for a moment. "Haven't what?"

She put her tea aside and turned to him with a disapproving air. "You've not gone and replaced me with some tight young thing with a degree in biophysics or something, have you?"

He smiled tightly: "It's not that, I'm afraid."

Donna blinked expectantly: "What then? You've already been to Monte Carlo? You hate the French? You can't swim?"

He put a hand out to stop her. "Donna--"

She drew in a breath, her eyes scanning his expression. "What?" she urged, eyes wide: "What is it?"

He looked at her steadily and eventually spoke, soft and straightforward: "I'm sorry, Donna. I'm so sorry. It's your grandad."

Her face changed immediately, only slight shift before her head lowered. She bit her lip, drew in a breath. "When?"

The Doctor paused. "He passed away two days ago," he told her: "He was ready, Donna. His only regret was not saying goodbye to you."

She nodded at the bedspread. Then after a long moment, she raised her head, her eyes brimming with tears. "How's Mum?"

He nodded uncertainly: "She's a strong woman. But she's going to need you now." He reached out to take her hand. "You're going to need each other."

Donna sniffed and wiped her sleeve across her nose like a little girl. She hesitated before shaking her head and whispering: "Why'd you stay then?"

He gave her a small, rueful smile. "I'm the one person in the entire Universe who has any idea what you just went through." He reached into his pocket, drawing something out and placing it in her palm. "Here."

Donna looked down at the watch, it's surface cool and smooth against her skin. "All that remains," she murmured softly: "of The Doctor-Donna." She traced the engraved initials with her thumb: "Who'd this belong to anyway? Who's JL?"

"It was a Christmas present," he replied: "From someone else who forgot. And then remembered."

She turned the fob watch over in her hands. "Not so unique anymore then. Am I?"

The Doctor tipped his head at her and smiled: "I would never say that."

He hesitated for a second, tempted to put his hand over hers. Perhaps it would allow them both a glance into the future they'd both been prepared to spend with each other but had been robbed of. He'd experienced that magical twist in time once before, with another woman he'd only just started to care for.

The difference was that she had been a virtual stranger to him. He needed no such trick to glimpse what his future with Donna Noble would've been like. It would've been as gloriously fun and thrilling as the entire time they'd spent together. However short-lived, they'd experienced a lifetime together that neither of them could ever forget.

He got up from the bed and threw his coat around his shoulders: "I have to go. Martha will be by to check up on you."

Donna nodded, ducking her head to hide a fresh wave of tears. She swung her legs to the floor, testing their strength.

"Look after yourself," he said, approaching her: "And your mum."

She got to her feet, her blue eyes kind and quizzical. "And who's gonna look after you?"

"I think," he mused quietly: "I'll look after myself for a while."

She paused a moment before asking with a bittersweet smile: "Am I ever gonna see you again?"

The Doctor returned her smile, then moved in to wrap her up in a hug. "If I'm very lucky," he whispered, his eyes closed against her.

Donna held him tightly for a moment, one tear dropping from her cheek onto his collar. Then abruptly she pushed him away. "Go on then," she sniffed, wiping her eyes and shooting him a shaky grin: "Get outta here before I say something stupid."

He grinned at her fondly, his hair flopping over his forehead. "Like?"

"Like…you know," she waved a hand in the air, not quite looking at him: "be careful."

"That's not so stupid," he admitted mildly: "I do get into a lot of scrapes."

She shrugged, her discomfort visible. "…and I'll…I'll miss you…and, you know--"

"I know," he nodded, stating simply: "You love me."

"Oright--" she huffed, shoving him towards the door: "Out you go."

"I know it, Donna," he murmured calmly: "even if you can't say it. You know it. You adore me. You-love-me-you-love-me-you--"

She gave him one last shove. "Maybe. A little," she muttered, eying him carefully: "God knows why and I'm only admitting it 'cos I'll probably never see you again."

The Doctor waggled his brows at her: "Who knows what the future may hold."

She put her back against the door and glared up at him playfully: "I thought you had somewhere to be?"

The Doctor smiled and leant in closer. He tipped her chin up with two fingers and gave her a kiss on the cheek. It lingered a little longer than it normally would've and when he pulled back he said softly: "In case you weren't sure, that's Special Time Lord Code for--"

"I know, I know," she smiled and rolled her eyes: "you adore me too."

He grinned down at her: "Exactly." He pulled back and pointed to a brown paper package on the chair where he'd been sitting. "By the way I left a little something for you."

Donna turned to look. "What is it?"

"A little light reading," the Doctor said in a low voice: "…Enjoy."

And when she turned back around, he was gone.

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

VII.

It was after three in the morning when Sylvia found her daughter at the kitchen table cradling a cup of coffee. Donna was in her pyjamas and robe, her hair messy and her face pale.

"Can't sleep either?" she murmured, shuffling past in her slippers.

Donna looked up, eyes red-rimmed. "Sorry. Did I wake you?"

Sylvia shook her head as she poured herself a cup from the pot. "No…" she replied absently: "Keep thinking about your grandad. And your Dad."

"We'll be right, Mum," Donna assured her gently: "I promise."

Sylvia pulled up a chair at the table. "What're you reading?"

Donna folded her arms over the book she'd been bent over. "Nothing."

"From the Doctor, is it?" she asked and took a sip of coffee.

Donna paused, leafing through the worn pages, then admitted: "Yeah."

Her mother nodded. "Did he write all that?"

"No. It's…" Donna ran a hand through her hair: "it's…a long story."

"It's a long night," her mother replied lowly.

"Well…" Donna took a breath, sounding as tired as she looked: "It belonged to a woman he knew. Or will know… in the future. I met her once."

She held her hand out for the book and Donna handed it across. "He gave you the diary of another woman?"

Donna half-laughed. "Sounds strange, right?"

"Why'd he give it to you?" Sylvia asked, flicking through the pages but not reading.

"I dunno…" she shrugged confusedly: "That's what I've been trying to figure out."

Sylvia looked over at her: "Are you in it?"

Donna shook her head and took a sip of coffee. "Can't see why I would be."

"Maybe," her mother suggested cautiously: "maybe there's something in here that he wants you to know."

Donna sipped again. "Like what?"

"Well, you knew him better than I did, darling," Sylvia replied, seeming to suggest something without suggesting anything specific.

"And there's nothing he loved more than a puzzle," Donna mused, her tone turning frustrated: "I just--I keep thinking there's gotta be some clue, something he wants me to do with this."

"Maybe when he comes back," Sylvia smiled wanly: "he'll tell you."

Donna looked at her, her expression wary. "What makes you think he's coming back?"

"What makes you think he's not?" Sylvia countered.

"I've been out there with him, Mum," she shook her head and sighed: "I've seen the world the way he sees it. The size of it. He's…massive. I'm just….a tiny blip on his timeline."

Sylvia put the book down, examining it thoughtfully for a moment before sliding it across the tabletop to her daughter. "You told me…this man had nothing. No home, no family, barely any possessions."

Donna nodded. "So?"

"So…" she took a breath and said softly: "Perhaps he just wanted give you something, leave something of himself with you."

Donna looked at the book, took it in her hands. "So he gave me his future?"

"All the bits you couldn't be there for," Sylvia nodded then gave a shrug: "Maybe there's no puzzle here at all. Maybe he's not so very cryptic. Maybe this is just the Doctor's way of saying…" her voice trailed off.

"What?" she prompted.

She met her daughter's gaze. "Thankyou?"

Donna's eyes dropped to the book again. "Or Goodbye."

"Or--" Sylvia added quietly but did not continue.

"Or?"

"Like I said…you knew him better than I did," Sylvia spread her hands and continued carefully: "But that man would do anything for you, Donna. Anything in this world."

Donna was quiet a moment. "Thanks, Mum."

"Alright, sweetheart." She gave her hand a pat and got up from the table. "Donna?" she murmured, turning at the door, coffee cup in hand.

"Hmm?" Donna looked up, her attention still on her mysterious gift.

"You will tell me how it all turns out," Sylvia asked: "Won't you?"

"Yeah," Donna smiled: "'Course I will."

Sylvia took one last look at her daughter, bent over the meticulously printed pages before turning to go back to her bed.

TBC...


	7. Chapter 7

VIII.

Throwing her scarf around her neck, Donna glanced at Venus one more time through the lens of her grandfather's telescope. It was the one thing he'd left her and the only thing she'd wanted.

Initially she'd spent most of her nights up the hill, either with her grandad's old astronomy books or with the Doctor's and River Song's diary open on her lap. She would like to have been there to wave him off, as her Gramps had done for them. She'd have liked to have seen that splendid blue box one last time.

But maybe it wouldn't have mattered. Maybe that was being greedy. She'd had her turn. And she had her memories. It was someone else's time now to follow that ridiculous man around the stars and save his hide whenever he needed it. It was her time to get on with her life.

She got to her feet and gave her mother a peck on the head: "Gotta go, Mum. Will you be alright with the telescope?"

"Fine, dear, yes, fine," she murmured, not raising her head from River Song's diary: "Have you read this part about the Durians and Riticulans?"

"Yeah," Donna smiled, giving her a wave: "Don't stay out too long, it's cold."

Sylvia waved absently. "Tell Martha I said hello…And have fun with Lee!"

"I will!" she shouted back as she headed down the hill at an increasing pace: "I'm gonna ask him to marry me!"

"What? Donna!" Sylvia dropped the diary and hurried to the crest of the hill: "Are you mad, my girl? What will he say to that?!"

Donna turned to face her, her arms spread wide against the starlit sky. "What do you think? He'll say yes, of course!"

_Epilogue_

'_March, 2117._

_The Doctor left today and it's back to reality. Books and university, late shifts and the Tube. It's all rather anti-climactic after sailing the skies. But at least I finally got up the courage to ask him before he flew away again._

_It can be so difficult getting him to talk about anything real. He's particularly reluctant to speak about the people he's loved and left behind. But today, the Doctor told me about my great-great grandmother._

_Mostly basic facts, some of which I already knew. That she had red hair and a temper. That she saved his life and all of reality. That she loved him fiercely and the feeling was mutual._

_Sometimes I wonder if he sees any of her in me, however distant the ancestry. Sometimes I wonder whether he compares, how much he remembers. And sometimes I wonder whether he'll ever love me half as much as I know he loved her._

_I worry that he sees me as a half-way version of her. Not quite formed, not quite ready. Too young and inexperienced. Not strong like her. Not brave or special._

_One day I will be though. One day, I'll be the one he trusts and calls on and turns to. The one he fights for and admires. Next time the Doctor calls, I'll be ready and waiting._

_When I asked him to describe what Donna Noble was actually like when he knew her, the Doctor was silent for a long time. I think maybe his eyes went a little wet and he could only find one word to reply with. _

'_Magnificent' was all he said._

_R.'_

END.


End file.
